


Late Nights

by orphan_account



Category: The Last Hours Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Some angst, im shit at tagging aren't I, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:07:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24207937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Thomas and Alastair are sort of insomniacs, and they meet on the balcony as they usually do. Despite this, the conversation is not as it usually is.(crap I made this sound like smut, didn't I? i promise it's not)
Relationships: Alastair Carstairs & Thomas Lightwood, Alastair Carstairs/Thomas Lightwood
Comments: 3
Kudos: 126





	Late Nights

“I missed you, you know.”

“What do you mean?” Thomas asked. Him and Alastair were sat on the institute balcony, staring at the stars in the dead of night like they always did. There was no telling what time it was as he looked into the endless black of night, stars hidden by London’s signature cloud cover. A chill ran through the air, a light breeze running through the city.

Thomas ended up here a lot, sitting on a balcony in the dead of night with Alastair, who was not necessarily a friend, but they were close enough that they seemed to be comfortable spending night after night sitting together. There were times when they just sat there in silence, staring at the stars when they were visible, enjoying the quiet they so rarely came by. Sometimes they sat and talked, not about anything important, just the whereabouts of their days and whatever rumors they heard currently going through the usual London institute crowd. They didn’t mention the Academy or what had happened there, due to the fact that it seemed to be a sore subject for both parties. The much-needed apology had taken place, and that had been the end. No more awkward tensions and unasked questions. Everyone went on with their days, forgetting what had happened there, that anything had happened at all.

“After I left the Academy,” Alastair said, “I missed you.” His eyes moved to a spot in the distance, as if to avoid anything Thomas might have to say in return. “I don’t really have a reason for telling you, if that’s what you’re thinking, other than I thought you’d might like to know.”

Thomas looked over at Alastair, not saying a word. He wondered if he should say something, even if he had nothing to say at all. What Alastair had just said left Thomas speechless. It had never occurred to him at the Academy that Alastair had thought anything of his presence at all, let alone appreciated him. It was even stranger to think that Alastair had _wanted_ him around.

“You probably think that I’m lying to you right now.” Thomas snapped out of his trance, realizing that Alastair was the one who had been talking. He had moved his gaze from the horizon, his piercing dark eyes meeting Thomas’s hazel ones. Alastair had a flush to his cheeks, an expression of what almost seemed like embarrassment on his face. Or maybe it was just nervousness. Despite that, there was a small smile playing on his lips as he gave a light chuckle. “I swear I’m not. I didn’t miss anything else about the Academy, and I don’t like thinking about most of the things that happened there because it all comes back to actions I regret and people I wish I’d gotten to know better.” Alastair sighed, then spoke again, a hint of nostalgia present in his voice. “I never realized I liked talking to you, though, and I’ll admit that I was a bit sad when I realized I wouldn’t see you after I left the academy. Then I ran into you in Paris, and I was so relieved to talk to you again I didn’t know what to do with myself. So I asked you to travel through the city with me.”

Blood suddenly started to rush to Thomas’s face now. He’d never thought of his and Alastair’s time together as anything other than old friends reconciling. At least, he didn’t think Alastair thought of it as anything more. He remembered walking along the Seine, talking about the past years they’d spend apart, the books they’d read and discussed. He had just thought of that as casual banter, nothing special about it. He sure as hell didn’t think that Alastair had thought anything else of it. Thomas remembered sitting at the cafe with him, talking long into the night about nothing, but at the time it had felt like everything.

Thomas looked again at Alastair. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness now, and he could see the other boy more clearly now. Alastair’s smile had gone, but he didn’t look sad or anything, just nervous. He still had a flush along his cheeks, his eyes dark as night as his gaze moved from place to place, almost like he was trapped in his own thoughts. He wasn’t saying anything anymore.

“Alastair?” Thomas questioned the boy in front of him. He had done this, hadn’t he? He had been rendered a bit speechless by the speech sure, but he didn’t want to make Alastair think he had been freaked out, because he hadn’t, at least not in a bad way. “Alastair?”

“Sorry,” Alastair frantically replied. “That was too much. Why should I even assume you care for me after all I’ve done? If I were you, I wouldn’t want to be in my presence at all.”

Alastair had no idea about Thomas’s feelings toward him at all. “How could you say th-”

“Why do you spend these nights with me anyway? How can you stand me?” stressed Alastair. “And why are these nights the only thing in my day I look forward to? Why is it that I’m fine with whatever the others feel, but for some reason I need your approval? And then you finally started talking to me again, and I can’t even properly tell you I like you.”

Thomas stared again, dumbfounded once again by the fact that Alastair Carstairs did actually care for him. He drank in the scene in front of him; the cloudy night, the balcony, Alastair sitting in front of him, cheeks flush and eyes dark like the night framed by thick lashes. His hair, normally neat, was a mess of raven black curls. He hoped he wouldn’t later regret what he was about to do.

Thomas leaned forward and met Alastair’s lips with his own, just for a moment. He pulled away, opening and closing his eyes, making sure he hadn’t lost touch with reality and that this wasn’t just something he’d dreamed. Sure enough, Alastair was looking back at him, eyes wide and his face slightly more flushed than it had been.

Only a few seconds passed before Alastair cupped Thomas’s face in his hands, leaning forward and kissing him again. Thomas leaned into the kiss, letting himself become lost to the moment. His hands flew into Alastair’s soft black hair as the two of them kissed on the balcony, nothing to come between them, not caring how much time passed. Right now, Thomas’s only thoughts were of Alastair.

The two broke off, only moving enough so that their faces were just inches apart. Thomas smiled at the boy in front of him, wondering how it had taken this long.

“What if I told you I liked you too?”

**Author's Note:**

> i finally wrote something else!! 
> 
> also i have some more one shots on my tumblr (immyownghostwriter) if you wanna check them out!


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